Snivellus Speaks
by elvencherry07
Summary: Snape rants about James and Lily and just social ladders in general. One-shot exploration kinda thing.


Snivellus Speaks

Oh, look, there they go again. Mr. and Mrs. Perfect. Walking down the hall—no running down the hall, and she's shrieking because oh, he pulled her hair, ohmygod how tragic, and any minute now he's going to grab her and tickle her or something and she's going to shriek more and then he's going to kiss her and then maybe they will both SHUT UP.

For Merlin's sake! They don't even realize, don't even _care _that this is not THEIR hallway, and that other people have to use this hallway too! Everybody says James Potter is so much mature now that he has a girlfriend, and they all think Lily Evans is some miracle worker because he's suddenly settled down but I can tell you perfectly well that James Potter _never _stopped believing that he owns this hallway and, in fact, this entire school.

No, now he just _co-owns _it. He _shares _this school with his beloved girlfriend, stupid little mudblood Lily Evans. It's still strange, of course, to think that James Potter has ever shared anything in his entire life, but "love" will do that to people sometimes.

It's not fair, you know. It is distinctly, incredibly unfair. Potter has always gotten everything he ever wanted. Oh sure, some things, like Miss Evans (who is, after all, just another _thing_), take some time, but in the end he gets them, doesn't he? After all, it only took two years for him to maneuver and flatter and work himself into her good graces, and two out of seventeen really isn't bad.

Look at them, walking off now, arms around each other, Potter with his stupid Quidditch Varsity jacket and Evans with her perky hair and four-hundred-galleon bag. And there's Potter's posse, dutifully following, with servile little Pettigrew ("Oh, Potter, can I lick your shoes? Please? You know I'm not as rich as you but I'll pay you five galleons for the honor…") and _Black_, ugh, Black, and Lupin, poor-little-werewolf Lupin, I certainly don't know how he got in a group with _them_, but he could just as easily be their target so he is one bloody lucky werewolf.

I suppose he thinks he has _friends_, loyal _friends _who would do all sorts of things for him, like deliver his homework to the hospital wing and accompany him on his monthly rampages (a near impossibility) and even save his conscience (oh no! not his conscience!) from the terrible scar of having eaten or seriously maimed a fellow classmate and human being.

Pfffft. I can see them even now. "Oh wow, Remus, you're a werewolf? No way! I've never been friends with a werewolf before! What an adventure!" That's all it is to them, an adventure. I don't know how they go out with him every month but it obviously requires some very, very advanced magic—what better chance to show off, if only to themselves, their bloody magical abilities?

Sometimes I wish Potter hadn't bothered to go after me. Don't know what made him do it, other than classic goody-goody-Gryffindor hero impulses. It certainly made him look good in front of Dumbledore, that night in the office.

It was hell that night, anyway. The Willow was thundering everywhere, all around me, and I got plenty of nasty scratches before I managed to find the little lump. (If it had been Potter, you bet he would've found it right away, easy as pie, because he's always lucky like that.) I wouldn't even have gone, really, if Black hadn't gotten that panicked look in his eye and rushed off right after he revealed the information.

Black doesn't slip up often. I knew it had to be big.

It was pretty satisfying, actually, to see the way the holy Marauders were torn apart after their little prank. Potter wouldn't speak to Black for days after he came back from suspension; Lupin, for weeks.

Everything seems all right, now, this year. Not like I care, but it just seems so… improbable. How can someone go back to trusting a former friend who gave away his biggest secret… just like that? I think for most people that would be impossible, because there would always be that tiny sliver of doubt.

But, of course, the Marauders aren't people. They're bloody _gods_, and you know how _gods _are so wonderful and benevolent and forgiving. Naturally, Lupin has erased the incident from his memory and Black has promised that it will never, ever happen again.

I think, you know, I would prefer it if he _did _do it again, or maybe just if my mother would come and try to smother me. She already tried it once, when I was three, just before they took her away. My family was exceedingly relieved when I survived the incident, but only because they were desperate for an heir, even an heir as ungainly as I am.

Potter's family is nothing like mine. His family is all sunshine and rainbows and would-you-like-a-fresh-blueberry-muffin. His father is a school trustee and a well-known auror, and his mother is president of the Parents' Association. She comes here, sometimes, to run the bake sales, and she smiles at anyone who buys anything and at anyone who doesn't, and she looks people in the eye.

I don't have any relatives who look people in the eye, probably because they are all too busy marveling their own rings or stuffing their faces or looking at _parts _of people, like "Oh, hello Severus, your tie is abysmally crooked and you've got another zit on your forehead, Ancus, can't you do _something _about that boy's complexion?"

Mrs. Potter doesn't say things like that. She looks people in the eye, and she says, "Thank you! Have a nice day!"

By now, you're probably getting bored of my rant, and you're probably wondering about my intense hatred for these poor, innocent, Muggle-lovers. You probably even think I'm jealous.

Well, you're wrong. I would never want to be like them. I would never want people to come up and _touch _me, just because I'm me and they want some of my glory to rub off on them. I would never want to spend all my time being fake and pretending to laugh at stupid, sick jokes and listening to long, introspective monologues about the different parts of a girl's anatomy.

Oh, of course, _Potter _never indulges in those kinds of conversations. No, because he really _loves _his girlfriend, and is loyal to her, and will never even look at any other girl because he is so infatuated by her, and her only.

Puh-lease. He'll be cheating on her by next week, and then they'll have another one of those big blow-up fights in the Great Hall, and then he'll grovel and apologize and eventually they'll be together again.

She's even worse than he is, in a way. Because at least Potter doesn't _pretend _to be a bloody angel. Lily Evans makes everything think she's so great and kind, always rooting for the underdog and sticking up for the tortured, but that means nothing. Of course she stands up for the oppressed. She's beautiful and popular and Potter "loves" her, so she can entirely afford to do so.

That day in fifth year, by the lake? I recall there was quite a large crowd around me and Potter as we dueled, and I suppose not _everyone _in the crowd was rolling on the ground in fits of laughter, but no one stepped forward. Only Evans came to my "rescue," if you would call it that, and she only did so because of one thing:

Potter would never turn on her, and she knew it.

I could just see it now. Picture this: Arnold Tratholthorp, an extremely fat boy from Ravenclaw, steps forward into the circle and squarely faces James Potter. "You stop that!" he bellows, because he has an excellent singing voice (he is a Bass 2), "I'm going to tell Dumbledore!"

What happens, you ask? Of course, Potter idly twirls his wand, pushes up his glasses and _squints _at Tratholthorp, slowly taking steps backward but, due to his immense good fortune, never hitting any trees. The crowd watches with bated breath, waiting for the punchline. Finally, he stops, and smiles. "Oh good!" he says, "I can see _all _of you now! What were you saying?"

The crowd roars. Thratholthorp slinks away, his courage gone and his self-esteem ripped to shreds. Potter carries on with my torment.

See? Of course it would never happen. They knew it, all the people in that crowd, and they squandered my dignity in order to hold onto theirs. Lily Evans didn't step forward because she was brave. She stepped forward because she could.

In life, there will always be the people who can and the people who can't.

That's all there is to it.

_Fin._

A/N: Hm. Weird. I guess this isn't really how they were… I mean, whatever, I just read the whole "memory" chapter again and maybe James really did love Lily but anyway this is basically what happens when I read L/J fanfics… it just makes me MAD because everybody's so perfect and Lily and James are so, so lucky to have each other and maybe Sev thought that too.

Whatever, this is just a rant. Popular people can actually be nice and human.

Especially when it's the morning before a chemistry test and they're asking you billions of stupid questions and going "Oh, okay, thank you _so _much!"

I know they didn't have varsity jackets, by the way.

Oh, by the way, if you review… just as a sort of poll thing, do you think it would have been more authentic/angry/touching if it had cursing? I mean, at first it was kind of clean but then I figured Snape would be really angry so I put in all these f-curses but then I figured he would also be kind of smart and so might have better ways to describe things. Tell me what you think!


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